


Henry Weinhard’s Orange Cream Soda

by drachenmal (ikhuo)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Difference, Ambiguous Underage (No ages are stated), Consensual Sex, Crying, Cunnilungus, Embarrassment, Humiliation, Incest, M/M, No Pregnancy Risk, Omorashi, Oral Sex, Penetrative Sex, Praise, Public Humiliation, Stridercest - Freeform, Trans Male Character, Trans dirk, Watersports, Wetting, alpha stridercest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 03:49:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4813829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikhuo/pseuds/drachenmal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An Alpha Stridercest fic featuring trans male Dirk.  There's no plot to it. It's erotica, that's about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Henry Weinhard’s Orange Cream Soda

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: I have no pre-reader and no editor. I have a good grasp of English grammar--better than most, in fact--but when writing for long periods of time, and just by inspiration/letting it flow, things get messed up. So, I apologize in advance for whatever grammatical or spelling errors you find in the story. I know there's gotta be at least one, there always is. If I were to read this over myself, I'd probably end up second-guessing even posting it, so I'm not going to do that. Whatever you find, just know that, were I to read it, I would know it was wrong. You don't have to point it out. Yes, even the finer points of grammar.

Nimble fingers curl around the thin neck of the bottle containing Henry Weinhard’s Orange Cream Soda, holding it securely and lifting it from its place on the end table. The cool glass lip of the bottle meets the soft, florid lips of a human, and, with a swift movement of the wrist, acts as a passage for the carbonated fusion of artificially flavored citrus syrup and water from within the container to the mouth of one Dirk Strider. As the liquid makes its way down his throat with a swallow, his larynx bobs ever so subtly, over and over with each gulp of sugary pop. Soon enough, the entire bottle is drained, and Dirk tilts the bottle back down, his tongue tracing around the mouth a few times before pressing the side of the cool glass to his mouth, allowing his tongue to move side to side against the edge of the lip. His tangerine eyes are focused intently on the small tablet screen in front of him as the words of The Saddest Pony (Pony Pals, #18) scroll across the screen, the audiobook of the same novel playing through his headphones.

Dirk is blissfully unaware of the fact that he has consumed an entire bottle of Henry Weinhard’s Orange Cream Soda, as well as the way he uses his mouth to idly toy with the bottle.

Of this, Dare is entirely aware. He knows his little brother very well—he practically raised the kid. He knows that his little brother has a terrible oral fixation, and that, when entirely lost in an activity, he’ll toy with his lips using his fingers, or put whatever is in his hand in his mouth. Which is the exact reason that Dare left the orange soda next to him in the car’s cup-holder and guided his hand towards it. Dare had been well aware of how his little brother would respond to it. This entire car ride has had the same pattern going on. Eventually, Dirk will recognize that he’s toying with an empty bottle, and, despite minor confusion, will put it down and return to his activity. His older brother will replace the empty bottle with a full bottle, and then, after a few minutes of idle silence, guide Dirk’s hand to the glass bottle. The cycle will repeat.

While he doesn’t have even the slightest intention of telling Dirk, the entire reason Dare insisted upon driving from Los Angeles to Texas with his little brother rather than taking a plane back home was to do precisely this. It would be a twenty-one hour drive the whole way, and so the two of them would most certainly take a pit stop somewhere… But Dare would drive as long as he possibly could, and their only pit stop would be at a hotel for the night. He’s able to see in his mind exactly how it will play out: Dirk will eventually register how much liquid he’s ingested, in the form of a long-full bladder rapidly swelling, pushing against everything inside of his little brother until he can’t keep up that indifference of his any longer, until he starts fidgeting and twitching, pressing his fingers to the tablet screen and swiping to the side to replay the same paragraph over and over because he realizes that, at some point, he’s lost focus, and he just can’t seem to catch the words as they move across the screen and vibrate against his eardrums—

This train of thought is cut short by the sound of glass clinking against hard plastic, and Dare takes note that Dirk has set the bottle down. He also notices that his little brother’s left knee begins to bounce rather quickly, and that brings a smirk to his face. Focusing his eyes on the road as to drive as safely as possible, he contents himself with the knowledge that it’s starting.

A minute passes, and Dare lays off on the gas, causing the car to decelerate. He takes the now empty glass bottle from beside Dirk, turning briefly to put it in the back of the car. Turning uncomfortably around in his seat, the older Strider grasps for his briefcase, thin fingers catching the edge and pulling it closer, only as close as necessary for him to push his hand into it. He feels around for a bit before clutching the neck of another glass bottle in his hand, pulling it out of the briefcase. Shifting to sit proper in his seat, Dare twists off the cap before setting the full bottle of Henry Weinhard’s Orange Cream Soda in the place of the other. Both of his hands return to the steering wheel and his eyes refocus on the road. In his head, he recounts the opening song, a rap he wrote and performed himself, of his first movie. It’s three minutes and forty-two seconds long, a rather unassuming amount of time to pass. 

Reaching over, Dare gently takes Dirk’s free hand, and the younger Strider doesn’t even notice. His knee is bouncing faster now, but all of his attention is still on the screen in front of him. Guiding his little brother’s hand to the cool glass of the bottle, he lets go, returning his hand to be on the wheel. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Dirk.

This time, when Dirk lifts the bottle to his lips and tilts it just so, it does not last so long. Pulled away from his lips suddenly, the bottle emits a sound caused by the liquid within it sloshing against its side. The slightest of shivers goes down Dirk’s spine at the wet sound, and he sets the bottle in the cup holder next to him. Using his fingers to toy with the cord of his headphones to avoid any chance of picking up the bottle again, the blond drags his tongue across his bottom lip, then biting he side. For the first time, he’s recognizing the pressing need in his abdomen. The car hits a pump and his breath hitches; Dirk can feel the liquid slosh around inside of him—he can practically hear it. His too-full bladder is out of room, though he attempts to put it out of his mind, twirling the smooth wire cord of his headphones around his index finger.

Dare is pleased with the fact that Dirk has begun to twitch and fidget. He’s so obviously uncomfortable, nearly squirming, and there are few things in the world that Dare could possibly find hotter than his little brother in a state like this. Usually so level and composed, perfectly glued together—Dirk only ever breaks that over a few things, and his older brother occasionally uses these to his advantage. He never tells Dirk that he’s aware of them; no, he just executes whatever he needs to execute in order to get the younger blond quivering and desperate. This particular method is especially self-indulgent on Dare’s part, and the thought of how this will all end sends a shudder down his spine, though he does his very best to hold still. Dirk can pick up on little things like that, after all, and read into them.

Time ticks forward, and Dirk becomes more and more focused on the pressing weight in his bladder. He tries his best to ignore it, to continue reading, but his pace has slowed. He’s muted the audio, because his reading simply cannot keep up with the pace any longer. Swallowing thickly, he presses his legs together, holding them for a few seconds before crossing them and squeezing them as tightly together as possible. Moving his right hand to rest against the door of the car, he drums his fingers against it. His tongue flicks out, dragging over his lips. He swallows thickly again. A few moments pass, and suddenly, Dirk realizes he has no idea what is going on in the story, the words scrolling on the screen. He reaches forward and rewinds it, watching the same minute over again, trying to focus—but nothing processes. He tries it again, and again, and again. He can’t seem to get it. He knows all the words, knows what they mean, and he is reading them; he’s simply not putting them into coherent thoughts. The matter of his full bladder is just too pressing.

“Bro,” Dirk speaks up, a particularly high level of effort going into keeping his tone steady. “Can we get off at the next rest-stop?” He asks, glancing out the window. The exit is in sight, but his older brother hasn’t answered. Eyes widening a bit behind his dark shades, the younger blond looks at Dare.

“Bro. You have to get over, we need to get off at this exit to get to the rest stop,”

“No can do, kid. It’s getting pretty late and we’ve been traveling for a good ten hours, I’d say, even though you probably didn’t notice since your nose was buried in your tablet screen. Whatever. Point is, if we’re getting off, we’re stopping for the night, and that stop doesn’t have a hotel,”

“It has a motel,”

“No thanks,”

Dirk opens his mouth to further insist on getting off at the exit, but then it rushes by, and they’ve missed it. Swallowing thickly, he settles down, still pressing his legs together tightly. It doesn’t occur to him that Dare may be doing this on purpose; at least, not until he notices his older brother glancing over at him with the smallest of smirks, so obviously pleased with the manner in which he is squirming in his seat. Orange eyes widen a bit, and then narrow while a scowl finds its way onto Dirk’s lips.

“You asshole. You’re doing this on purpose,” He accuses.

“Doing what?” Dare replies, feigning innocence by ignorance.

The car hits a bump in the road, causing it to suddenly jolt. Dirk gasps at the feeling, his legs curling together tighter as he feels a small spurt of release. Nothing substantial or meaningful, just a mere drip—but it leaves his face burning red with embarrassment, even though Dare can’t possibly be aware of what just happened. The smirk on his face begs to differ, but the younger of the Striders is certain that it’s just in his head. There’s no visible sign of the incident other than Dirk’s own discomfort, but he was uncomfortable before it happened, and so the relevance of that to discovering anything is moot.

“You know exactly what I mean. We’re getting off at the next exit,”

“No, we’re not. Not unless it has a suitable hotel,”

“Bro, I’ve gotta…” Dirk trails off, swallowing. “We have to get off,”

The smirk on Bro’s face only widens, though his eyes are still on the road. It may be Dirk’s imagination, but he’d say that the car even slowed down in the slightest.

“You’ve gotta what?” Dare asks, and nothing masks his absolute joy with this turn of events. Dirk settles a firm glare on him.

“Nothing,”

“Then obviously, we don’t have to get off. I think I could drive for another few hours… How’s that sound?”

“No!” Dirk immediately responds, some desperation seeping into his voice. His flush darkens, and he looks out the window. As his tenses up, his shoulders hunch ever so slightly.

Dare laughs. He outright laughs. It’s not obnoxiously loud, nor is it exaggerated or long. It’s a short, genuine bout of laughter—laughter that makes Dirk shake a little bit, because he knows it’s directed at him. He’s angry, but more than that, he’s utterly humiliated.

“What’s so bad about staying in the car, mm? We stopped just a little bit ago, y’know,”

“No we didn’t,”

“Yeah kid, we did. You were so immersed in that pony story of yours that you didn’t even realize it, I guess,”

Dirk swallows. So that’s what this is. His older brother knows him well enough to know how focused he gets on the Pony Pals books. They’re not particularly good, but he has to read through them at least once before he can start making his edits to fix them. He’s caught himself more than once with a bottle in hand—had that been Dare? Has he really consumed bottle after bottle of orange soda? Turning around the glance into the backseat of the car, Dirk’s stomach drops—there are countless empty bottles, all from Henry Weinhard’s Orange Cream Soda, which he knows for certain his older brother does not drink.

“So?” Dare asks, humming softly as the car smoothly glides over the asphalt. “What has you so insistent on stopping, anyway?”

There’s a slight delay in the response as Dirk remains silent, though he finally relents and speaks up. “There’s a particularly pressing need to use the lavatory building in my abdomen,” He replies, still looking out the window in embarrassment.

“I think you’ll be just fine holding it a little longer,”

Despite his strong desire to protest that, Dirk doesn’t. He can’t find it in himself to admit that he’s pretty sure he can’t hold it longer. That there’s something of which he doesn’t have control, especially on his own person. He goes silent and focuses his gaze on a smudge on the window, watching it intently. He’s not sure how much longer it will be, but he knows he has to hold it. Everything is closing in now, though. His insides feel like they’re being squeezed, and his thighs are starting to feel numb, since he’s had his muscles clenched so tight for so long. Every minute that passes, is need for the bathroom gets a thousand times worse, and within three minutes, he’s looking back at Dare, his eyes watery behind his shades. The red color of his face is a dead giveaway that he’s close to crying. He’s desperate.

Dare has to shift a bit in his seat. Dirk looks so hot like this. At the right angle, he can see through his little brother’s shades, see the blurry form of his tear-filled eyes. He can see the way he’s quivering, the way his lip is shaking, and how hot and red his face is. Dirk is breaking down right next to him, and, to the older Strider, there has never been a more beautiful sight. Dare can’t stand to see Dirk upset, but this is different. He’d never be able to find the words if asked to explain exactly how it’s different—it simply is.

Licking his lips, Dare nods. “Yes?” He asks, glancing at the road. As Dirk opens his mouth to respond, his older brother gently swerves the car, causing it to hit a bump, jolting the automobile and it’s passengers. Rather than words, a surprised cry leaves Dirk—and then his entire body tenses up even more and a tear trickles down one of his bright red cheeks. Then, Dare sees it. He sees the dark spot on the crotch of Dirk’s jeans, the way it traces slightly down his thigh. That’s hot. It’s not really that much, but it sends a shudder down Dare’s spine. He licks his lips, and this is the absolute best thing that could’ve come from this ride.

“Oh, baby,” Dare coos, looking up at Dirk’s face, smiling softly at him and slowing the car ever so slightly. Reaching a hand over, he rests it on Dirk’s thigh, massaging it, which results in the younger blond immediately tensing up. Gradually, he moves it higher and higher, until he’s cupping his little brother’s crotch and rubbing him. He presses one of his fingers against him, the fabric of Dirk’s jeans and boxers dipping between his vaginal lips due to Dare’s finger. The older Strider moves his finger up and down, then moves his hand back to his little brother’s thigh to rub it. “You really can’t hold it any longer?” Leaning over, he presses a soft kiss to Dirk’s cheek, from which Dirk pulls away. He huddles himself in the opposite corner of his seat; Dare knows that Dirk’s embarrassed, and he knows how he acts when he’s embarrassed. It’s too perfect, and he has to withdraw his hand from Dirk’s leg to adjust himself. “We’ll get off at the next exit, stay the night at the Best Western,”

Sniffling quietly, Dirk hugs himself tightly, his entire body tense. He hates it when his older brother starts calling him ‘baby’. … Well, that’s not entirely true. He loves it. It’s the same sort of conflicting love-hate he has with the overwhelming sense of humiliation and degradation that he feels sitting in this situation. He didn’t let too much loose; just enough to wet his own pants, nothing on the seat, which is good. It’s a really expensive car, and Dirk’s pretty sure that urine is, like, the last thing that anyone wants on their car seats. Or the last thing that would be good or even okay to get on a car seat.

Soon enough, Dare is navigating the car and getting off at the exit, and the Best Western  
isn’t really that far from there. Not even a mile—it’s just passed the gas station, the reason most people usually get off at this rest-stop. Dirk squirms as his older brother parks the car, listening to the click of the other Strider’s seatbelt and opening of his door—and then a pause.

“Aren’t you coming?”

Orange eyes widen, and Dirk looks over at Dare, perhaps a little comprehensive. “I’m not going in there like this,” He says somewhat defensively, perhaps a bit nervously. “It takes time to check in and shit. J, Just, go do that. Once you have the room key, come get me. T, Then. Then I’ll go in,”

Of course, that prompts quite the smirk from Dare.

“No can do, kiddo. You’ve gotta come with me,”

A silence falls over the two, and Dirk stares at Dare. Dare stares back. While it’s Dirk’s intention to hold out until his older brother relents, he doesn’t make it close. A hand reaches down to press the red plastic button to undo his seatbelt, and then he reaches over to open his door, carefully getting out of the car. He can’t hold it long enough to get his way.

Silently following his older brother into the Best Western, Dirk can feel everyone’s eyes on him. It makes him squirm in his place standing next to Dare at the sign-in desk, eyes trained on his feet. He feels a little sick to his stomach, but then again, it’s quite plausible that’s just his full bladder. His little spurt in the car hadn’t provided him with any relief whatsoever. Dare spends much more time than necessary talking to the receptionist, and Dirk knows that he’s doing it on purpose. He’s making him stand in this lobby, in plain sight of everyone, with pants he obviously soiled himself. There’s a tightness in his throat, and he can feel himself ready to break out crying from humiliation.

As soon as Dare steps away from the front desk, Dirk turns on his heel and follows after his older brother. “Walk faster,” He requests quietly, desperation still in his tone. He nearly smashes the button for the elevator, the up arrow lighting up immediately. It feels like forever before the doors open, but he doesn’t waste a second before pushing right into the small room. He watches Dare press the number for their floor, and then, once the doors open, he follows right behind the older blond, practically walking on his heel. Tangerine eyes don’t leave Dare; they watch his every moment. The plastic card held in front of the door, the green light that turns on with a blip, those pale fingers curling around the brass handle to the door, turning it to the side and pushing forward, opening the door— 

Pushing in passed Dare, Dirk makes a dive for the little bathroom. 

He doesn’t make it.

Familiar fingers curl around his wrist, holding tightly. Dirk hears the door click shut, and he twirls around to look at his older brother. Dare’s shades are off, red eyes glinting in a pleased manner.

“You’re not going in there,”

“Bro. Bro, I need to, you can’t make me hold it any longer,”

“Mm, there’s no way you could fight me to get into the bathroom without pissing yourself, baby. So I’m afraid I can make you hold it longer,”

Twirling Dirk around, Dare gives him a gentle push in the direction of the bed. “Go on, strip down. Naked,”

Biting his lip, Dirk hesitates before taking a few steps towards the bed and stripping down. He peels his shirt off, then his binder. His small, soft breasts bounce out, little nipples round and pink—flat, and unaroused. Then, he undoes his fly, pushing his pants down, followed by his boxers. His neatly waxed cunt is on display, his testosterone-enlarged clitoris too big to be hidden by his plump vaginal lips. His pink labia minora hang out, as well, and he steps away from his piling of clothing on the floor carefully, his plush thighs pressed tightly together, the ever so slight softness to his form hardly showing with how tense he’s made his entire body.

Turning to look at Dare, Dirk narrows his eyes, his face bright red. “Are you satisfied? Can I go to the bathroom now or what?”

“Shades, too,” Dare replies, pulling himself up onto the bed. They have the finest suite available in this hotel, and the quality of the bedding attests to that. He is still fully clothed in one of his most expensive suits. It had been rather uncomfortable to drive whilst wearing it, but he’s had this planned since the very beginning, right down to the smallest detail. Well, at least this smallest detail.

Laying back, Dare watches Dirk slide his shades off and set them aside. His little brother won’t look him in the eye, and he knows exactly why. Those beautiful citrus eyes of his are glassy and filled with tears of utter humiliation—the only kind of tears that Dare finds remotely attractive welling up in Dirk’s eyes. He gently pats his lap, and his little brother looks at him, then shakes his head. 

“We are not doing this right now. No. I can’t hold it during something like that, Bro,”

Dare wavers just a moment. He doesn’t want to tell Dirk that he doesn’t want him to hold it in. He wants it to just happen, because Dirk just can’t hold it anymore. He decides to continue to push his little brother.

“C’mon, Dirk. You’ve always loved a little challenge, haven’t you?”

“Not like this,”

“I promise you won’t have to hold it much longer,”

Dirk stares Dare down, then swallows. He slowly moves over, carefully pulling himself up onto the mattress and settling his hips against those of his older brother, straddling him. The movement hurts with how badly he needs to relieve himself, and it leaves his legs spread, not pressed shut, making it all the harder to hold the contents of his bladder inside.

Dare immediately rests one hand on Dirk’s hip, and the other slides up to allow him to curl his fingers in Dirk’s golden blond hair. He uses this leverage to guide his little brother’s head down, pressing their lips together. He savors the softness of Dirk’s lips, smiling into the kiss. He pulls back for a moment, looking at his little brother’s too-tense form, ever so slightly shaking over him—his flushed cheeks, somewhat watery eyes, wet lips. It’s a beautiful sight, and he shudders. Leaning back up, Dare presses his lips against Dirk’s once again, and then again, and then again, covering those lips in a flurry of little affectionate kisses. The kisses continue over his cheek and down his neck, and Dare drags his hand up from his little brother’s waist to ever so gently cup one of his breasts, running his thumb over the stiff pink nub of Dirk’s nipple.

“Fuck, I love you so much, baby. So much,” Dare breathes out, and Dirk doesn’t make a sound in response. He loves hearing it, and, usually, he would give a positive response—a particularly heated kiss, or even a return of the sentiment—but right now, he’s focused on not wetting himself. He’s letting his brother guide him and do as he will, because he simply can’t do anything else. Participation isn’t within his abilities, because if he focuses on anything else, he might just loosen his muscles, and Dirk knows that if he starts, he won’t be able to stop himself from going on until his bladder is empty.

With the quietest of hums, Dare moves both of his hands down. They steady Dirk’s hips, and his thumbs press against the boy’s abdomen firmly, but not too hard. He rubs in circles, and in seconds, his little brother is quivering overtop of him, squirming, maybe even trying to get away. The eyes he loves so much are screwed shut, and Dirk’s breathing is getting quicker and quicker. Dare presses harder, then moves one of his hands so that his palm is simply pressing to his little brother’s abdomen, pressing on it with a decent amount of force.

Tears well in Dirk’s eyes, and he squirms, struggles, tries to get away while still holding everything inside. Trembling like a leaf in a storm, Dirk shakes his head violently.

“Bro! Bro, Bro, s, stop, stopit, it, I, I ca, can’t, I can’t, Bro, Bro, Bro, p, please, I,” 

A pitiful sound of distress comes from Dirk as he suddenly stops his struggling, all of his muscles relaxing. He’s just not able to hold it in anymore, and before he’s even entirely relaxed, urine is trickling out of his urethra. It doesn’t remain a trickle for long, however; soon enough, it’s a steady stream of hot, tacky liquid. He shakes and twitches every once in a while, tears streaming down his face. His hands come up to hide his face in shame. What kind of able-bodied person wets themselves at his age? Obviously, he does. A coo of “Oh, baby,” is the first thing he hears from his older brother, but he’s blocking it out mostly. Baby, that’s what he feels like. He feels like an infant, pissing himself in his brother’s lap.

By the time the steady stream dies down to be just a few spurts, and then nothing at all, Dare is almost entirely soaked with Dirk’s piss from his belt downwards to his knees, and then bed isn’t in any better shape. His thousand-dollar suit is damp with his baby brother’s piss, as is the expensive, high-quality bedding of their hotel room bed. He’s not worried about it, though. No, it’s one of the hottest things he’s ever experienced, and since Dirk let loose, his eyes haven’t left his little brother’s cunt. He watched the darkness spread through his own pants, watched as he became drenched in Dirk’s urine. His hands settle on Dirk’s thighs, rubbing them gently as he listens to the soft, disgruntled sobs of humiliation leaving his little brother.

“I, I’m—I’m sorry, B, Bro,” Dirk stammers, opening his fingers to peer down at his brother. “I just, fuck,” He swallows thickly, looking away in shame. “Couldn’t hold it anymore, I t, told you,”

Groaning softly, Dare sits up with Dirk in his lap, wrapping one of his arms around his little brother’s waist, the other groping his ass. This repositions their weight, which allows Dirk to feel the firm tent in his older brother’s pants, pressing up against his cunt. The younger of the Striders is puzzled for a moment, and then his eyes widen.

“What the… Bro, what the fuck?” Dirk whines, wiping at his eyes.

The only response that Dirk gets is a few kisses from his brother and hands on his sides, rubbing them gently. “Shhh, baby,” He whispers, pressing a few more kisses to his little brother’s throat and jawline. “You’re just so hot when you’re all flustered like this,” Using his thumb, he brushes away a few of Dirk’s still falling tears. “All outta control. Mm, wetting yourself all over my expensive suit… You really couldn’t hold it?”

Hesitantly, Dirk nods. He looks away, avoiding eye contact. By now, he’s been able to deduce that Dare planned all of this for his own pleasure. That he wanted Dirk to piss himself all over—but that doesn’t change the fact that the younger of the Striders wet himself, and that he is embarrassed by that fact.

“Mph—” Dare is so obviously enjoying himself, and while Dirk is partly joyed by that, he’s also a bit indignant. He feels humiliated, and his brother is getting off on that. The result of that thought is a low whine coming from Dirk’s throat. He leans forward and pushes his face into the crook of Dare’s neck, wrapping his arms around him tightly. He mostly just wants to hide himself. His whole body is hot, and while he’s not inclined to admit it, the wetness in his cunt is not entirely from him having just pissed himself. Well, it might have something to do with that, but it isn’t urine, that’s for sure. Feeling one of Dare’s arms curl around his back, his hand dipping between his legs from behind and rubbing at his slick entrance, toying with his folds, Dirk swallows thickly, giving another small whimper. He curls and uncurls his toes anxiously.

Suddenly, Dare stands up. Dirk immediately wraps his arms around his older brother’s neck, though the other Strider is supporting him using a grip on his thighs. He doesn’t question his older brother’s actions when he’s dipped down and laid onto the bed, his back against the plush material—luckily, the hotel suite bed is rather large, a King, and so he is away from the spot damp with his own urine.

“You’re so beautiful, Dirk. So, so beautiful, fuck. I just can’t get enough of you,” As he kisses down Dirk’s chest, tailing straight down his stomach, Dare cups either side of his baby brother’s little belly, rubbing his thumbs over it ever so gently. “Sweet, perfect little brother. Hot as fuck, damn, no one’s better, no one’s even close. Li’l baby, mmm,” He sings Dirk’s praises in sweet murmurs, though there is a slight strain in his voice—desperation, desire. Dare is nearly shaking as he presses his lips against Dirk’s navel and probes his tongue out. 

A gasp is pulled from Dirk’s throat at the feeling, and he sighs softly, pleased with the feeling. He’s no longer actively crying, and while his face is still beat red and he’s still humiliated by what he’s done, Dare’s words and soft touches make him smile. He just can’t help it. When someone you love is telling you how magnificent you are, it’s hard to do anything but smile. Tentatively, Dirk puts one of his hands on his brother’s head, arching up a bit as Dare’s warm tongue probes at his belly-button, swirling around inside of it. Softly moaning, the young blond feels his cunt throb, and he digs his teeth into his bottom limp. He lets out a soft whimper of need, and Dare responds exactly as his little brother wants—dragging his lips down to the soft, waxed skin of the boy’s labia majora.

Letting out a soft breath as his older brother’s tongue traces over his vaginal lips, Dirk spreads his legs a little bit. Dare’s hands drag down his sides, gently scratching, and curl over so that their palms are pressing to his inner thighs, holding his legs apart. He moves down, pressing his tongue right under Dirk’s entrance, before dragging it up, between his labia minora and to his fat clitoris, around which he closes his lips and suckles. While it is primarily just traces, he can ever so faintly taste his little brother’s urine on his tongue, but he pays it no mind. He’s far too focused on the way Dirk jolts when he gives his clitoris a hard suck, his tongue rubbing hard around the base of the swollen nub. The way the younger blond’s legs instinctively press together, how Dare has to tighten up the muscles in his arms to hold his brother’s legs open. As he eats Dirk out, his eyes are closed, but he can feel everything. He feels the way Dirk’s muscles all tense, and he knows Dirk’s toes are curled. He knows that his little brother is fisting the sheets, and, as he gives an especially long suck on Dirk’s clitoris, he can feel the shift of the bed that alerts him to the fact his little brother is arching his back clean off the mattress.

Dirk’s breathing is fast and heavy, and he’s already feeling so, so close to orgasm. It never takes much when Dare decides to bring his mouth into things. Small gasps leave him, along with little mewls and moans. He gets exponentially louder as he gets closer, and by the time a mere two minutes have passed, he’s shaking. 

“F, fuck, ah,” Dirk breathes out, and he tries hard to press his legs together, his back arching right off of the bed. His body contorts and his legs twist, his heels hitting Dare’s back and holding him tightly. One of his hands presses his brother’s head firmly to his cunt while the other holds tightly to the sheets beneath him.

“Bro!” rolls off of Dirk’s lips as orgasm tears through his form, leaving him shaking like a leaf.

Dare is pleased to hear his little brother crying out in release, and he gives Dirk’s cunt a few more licks to help him ride it out before he pulls his head away from his little brother’s vagina. A string of the younger Strider’s cum and Dare’s own saliva connects his lips to the soft, pink folds of Dirk’s pussy, but he brings up a hand quickly to break that. He wastes no time as he pulls himself up to hover over his little brother’s form, leaning down to kiss him. As he does that, his hand moves down and his fingers press right against the same folds he had just been licking, toying with them. Pulling back from the kiss, Dare stares at Dirk with a look of desperation on his face, and Dirk looks back curiously, eyes a bit hazy with pleasure and his pulse elevated.

“Let me fuck you,” Dare breathes, one of his fingers slipping into Dirk, pumping in and out of him, drawing a quiet ‘a, ah, ahhh’ from Dirk. “Please, please, fuck, I want you so badly, Dirk, I want to fuck you so badly, c, c’mon, please,”

He doesn’t have to ask. He especially doesn’t have to beg. Dare knows this, but he also knows that Dirk likes having control, or at least the upper hand. He knows that, while his little brother would love to get shoved down and fucked hard, have his control taken away like that, something like the stunt Dare pulled today was probably a bit unsettling for his baby brother. So he’s begging Dirk, pleading for the change to fuck him, after having already given him an orgasm. The way Dirk smiles tells Dare that it was the right move. 

“Y, Yeah,” Dirk responds, leaning up and kissing Dare, smiling against his lips.

In a swift, fluid motion, Dare is off of the bed, shrugging his blazer off and grabbing the knot of his tie, tugging it downwards to loosen the neck and then pulling that over his head, tossing it to the floor. He pulls a small bottle of lubricant out of his pocket, setting it on the table beside the hotel bed, his fingers fumbling with the buttons on his dress shirt. He’s done this enough to have the motions down pat, and his button-up shirt is off in seconds. He shrugs it off and drops it to the floor, and then he’s undoing his belt. It hits the floor with a clink. His fly is undone, and his dress pants hit the floor without a sound, as do his boxers. Dare grips his length, giving it a few strokes for relief, then pulls himself back onto the bed over Dirk. He kisses his little brother once again before reaching over and grabbing for the lube.

“Pretty sure I’ve already made my point, babe, but I want you to lay back and relax and just lemme do my thing, okay?” Dare murmurs, kissing Dirk’s jawline. “Course you know our safe word and shit, use that all you’d like, but don’t worry ‘bout a thing. Fuck, whether you meant to or not, the answer is you totally didn’t, you’ve gotten me rock hard already. Damn, almost creamed myself when you finally let yourself piss, fuck, you’re so hot, y’know that? So hot,”

Sometimes, Dare talks a little too much during sex, but Dirk would never hush him. Even now, he just watches him, the smallest of smiles on his face. He loves his older brother, and he loves his voice. If he wants to talk the whole time he’s got his dick up Dirk’s cunt, well. Dirk isn’t going to stop him. He’d never dream of it. Spreading his legs apart, he presses his heels to the bed just slightly, pressing to hold himself up a bit so that his hips are angled properly.

Shifting back, Dare pops open the small bottle of lube. “This is gonna be cold and all. You know that but hey, a warning’s always nice,” He comments, bringing two fingers to his little brother and spreading him open, just so that he can see his entrance and have nice access to it. Licking his lips, he takes the bottle of lube, and tips it. Presses the opening right to Dirk’s cunt, squeezing it with one hand whilst his free hand strokes his little brother’s inner thigh.

Dirk shivers slightly as he feels the cold lubricant against his hot inner walls, sinking deep inside of him. When Dare pulls the bottle away and sets it aside, it’s about half-full, while it had been entirely full before. He sets it on the nightstand, then rubs Dirk’s slit, sliding two fingers into his vagina. It makes a wet squelching noise, as is to be expected with that amount of lubricant. Whether or not so much had been necessary is debatable, but Dare would have it no other way. They discovered a long time ago that while Dirk can get quite wet, his own slickness isn’t enough to get much more than one finger inside of him without pain. He’s just a small person. Hell, even with that much lube, Dare knows that the initial penetration will hurt Dirk.

Gently kissing Dirk’s thigh, Dare works his fingers in and out of him, spreading them inside of him to stretch him out a bit. Dirk once told him he was stupid for doing that—it had been one of their first times together. He asked why he didn’t just put his dick into him, why loosen it up so it’s not as tight as it could be. It made Dare laugh, but also cringe, because sex education must be pretty pathetic nowadays if Dirk really thought something like that. Humming softly, Dare presses a third finger against Dirk’s entrance, moving to press it into his tight pussy.

“No,” 

Instantly, Dare stops entirely, looking up to Dirk’s face. His little brother has a small pout on, as well as a lustful look in his eyes.

“No?”

“Yeah, no. A third finger won’t make a difference. I know you like to prep me before hand so it doesn’t hurt, but the fact of the matter is that I’m small, Bro, and it’s going to hurt at first either way. The good you can do you’ve already done with two fingers, three’s overkill,”

With a sigh, Dare nods, pulling his fingers away. He knows that Dirk is right, and because of that, he settles his little brother’s hips down, giving himself a few firm strokes with the hand he used to finger Dirk. That smears some of the lubricant over his length. His other hand takes one of Dirk’s, squeezing it gently as he aligns himself with Dirk’s hole. Swallowing, he lets out a heavy breath before pressing the head against him. It goes in a bit, and then there’s the resistance, not even the whole head inside before it’s halted. Dare isn’t particularly large—six inches as far as length goes, maybe a bit thick but nothing out of the average range. It really is about Dirk being small, and while they’ve managed to work Dirk up to the depth of taking his older brother’s whole cock, they haven’t quite managed to get the initial push-in to be easy. 

Nonetheless, Dare pushes forward. He rocks side to side, pushing harder and harder—and then he feels the ‘pop’, and his length slides in easily from there. Dirk whimpers softly, but once the older of the Strider brothers has his hips pressing flush to those of his little brother—the head of his cock rubbing right up against Dirk’s cervix, putting pressure on it—he stops, sighing softly. Dirk squeezes his hand in a vice grip, and he stays still as the younger does so. It’s not as though Dirk’s hymen is torn. No, his hymen is fine. Honestly, Dare’s not sure what it is that resists the push in each time; he usually assumes that it must be his baby brother’s pelvis or something like that. Dirk has never once bled during sex, so his hymen is fine. 

Panting lightly as he relishes the way that Dirk’s hot, wet cunt throbs around his cock, Dare gently strokes his little brother’s thigh as he waits for the nod. The other’s grip on his hand tightens, and then he gets the nod. With the slightest of shifts to lean forwards, Dare pulls out and thrusts back into the tight cavern. Dirk cries out in pleasure, and the action is repeated, over and over again. It’s a slow pace at first, but he gradually builds it up. With each thrust into him, Dare slams against Dirk’s cervix, and Dirk’s toes curl every time, his knees bending. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight, so tight, you feel so great around me, fuck,” Dare curls over his little brother, squeezing his hand in his own as he thrusts into him. His other hand holds the younger of the Strider’s thigh, and, with a momentary pause, he puts that leg around his hips, moving his hand to Dirk’s ass. This allows him to thrust deeper and harder, grunting with each thrust into Dirk. Likewise, Dirk gasps, mewls, or moans with each of his older brother’s thrusts,

It doesn’t take long for Dare to feel knots in his stomach, alerting him that he’s less than a minute away from blowing his load. He’s been worked up almost all day—maybe not with an erection, but the anticipation has been to die for. And then, fuck, the reality was so much better than he had imagined. He’s surprised he didn’t cream his pants, as he said.

“F, Fuck,” Dare curses under his breath, swallowing and pressing his face into the crook of Dirk’s neck. “Fuck, I’m so close, Dirk, so close,” He breathes out, and Dirk tightens up his muscles purposefully.

Dirk himself is feeling rather close, too. A second orgasm is much easier to achieve than the first, and, on top of that, he’s always adored the feeling of penetration. The first time he and his older brother had sex, he orgasmed just from feeling Dare half-way inside of him.

“G, Go on, cum in me,” Dirk breathes out, and Dare almost immediately complies.

With a few more thrusts, Dare drops his head back and moans out his little brother’s name as he pumps his cum into Dirk’s throbbing cunt. With each shot of cum, he pulls back and thrusts in, riding out his orgasm. His cum floods Dirk, filling him up with the warm, thick, and sticky substance. Dirk’s own orgasm isn’t that far behind Dare’s, and instead of a shout, the sound to come from the blond upon orgasm is a soft squeak. It always happens when he’s orgasming for the second time in a day, or if it’s passed the second, and sometimes it will even happen the first time. It brings a smile to Dare’s face, and he thrusts a few more times to help the both of them ride out their orgasms before he allows himself to pull out of Dirk and lay beside him. He presses a few kisses to his little brother’s cheek, wrapping an arm around him.

It’s quiet for a few minutes, the air filled with the sound of their breathing as they work on getting it and their heartbeats back to normal. Dirk is the first to speak up, giving his brother’s hand a squeeze.

“The room stinks,”

That gets a snort and a nod from Dare.

“Yeah, it does. Bet we do, too,”

“Mmhm,”

Dare presses a soft kiss to Dirk’s temple, and Dirk responds by turning his head to press a chaste kiss to Dare’s lips.

“We should bathe, probably,”

“Probably. I’ll call downstairs, say we had an accident in the room or something, need new bedding, so we can clean this up,”

“So you can clean this up,” Dirk corrects. “It was your bright idea that made this happen,”

“Right, right,” Another kiss. “So I can clean it,”

Dirk nods, assuring that it will only be Dare cleaning up. He’s not concerned; this was most certainly worth doing a bit of clean-up work.

Slowly, Dare detaches himself from Dirk, and Dirk sits himself up. The older of the pair reaches for the phone and dials for the front desk whilst Dirk heads into the bathroom attached to their hotel suite. He is pleased to find that the bathtub is quite large and deep—as in, his favorite type of bathtub. Kneeling beside the bath, he turns on the water, feeling it with his hand before adjusting it to be a bit hotter. He always likes to shower and bathe in water hotter than most would ever want to do either. With that, Dirk stands, allowing the bath to fill as he goes to examine the complimentary shampoo, soap, and conditioner. And also, the complimentary bubble bath. That brings a grin to the blond’s face, and he doesn’t hesitate before grabbing the small bottle and pouring the entirety of it into the warm bath water.

Quickly enough, the bath is filled, with the bubbles higher than the brim. Dirk carefully steps into the water, bracing himself against the wall. Then, with a hand on either side of the bathtub, he settles down, sitting in the deep tub. His head is hardly visible above the bubbles, and when Dare comes in, finishing his conversation with the front desk, he almost calls his little brother’s name before catching sight of him. Closing the bathroom door and locking it, the older blond moves over to the bathtub, stepping in and settling down, right behind Dirk. Arms wrap around the younger’s small form, and Dare leans in from the side to press a kiss to Dirk’s temple.

“I love you,”

“I love you, too, Bro,”


End file.
